One Hundred Years
by Cakenbakin
Summary: Follow up from the Broken Ones. A story about Maered and Cadvan's married life with kids, but not all is well. Resentment, tragedy and love R&R M to be sure
1. Chapter 1

**AN: follow up from The Broken Ones. If anyone is interested, this will be the first chapter, and if they wish this to continue, drop me a line. Basically, like summary, said, the story of Maered and Cadvan with kids and their lives and their future **

Maered's eyes flashed open to the sound of her youngest, Mako, squalling in his crib. She rolled over, and Cadvan, sleeping next to her, mumbled and put his hand on hers.

"I'll get it," he swung his legs out, and stumbled to the crib, where Mako was still continuing his intense and earsplitting performance. "Ssh," he whispered to the tiny, black haired boy, "Father has you. Shh." Maered watched him from her pillows for a moment, thinking of her baby, and that by now their other three children, Yanna, Dernhil and Adina would be awake.

It was Yanna, their second youngest, and most beautiful, who came in to check on her mother, father, and baby brother.

"Is he ill mama?" she asked, coming to curl up beside Maered, a little frown on her pale forehead.

"No, no," Maered stroked her black hair, "he is just being fussy. You were fussy too, when you were born."

"Was Dernhil?" Yanna asked, sure that her big brother, now nineteen and very grown up, would have been the worst, for his temper and his constant whining, or so Yanna thought.

"No, actually," Maered shook her head, a small frown forming on her brow, "your brother was so quiet we thought he was ill. He is still like that, sometimes."

"No he's not!" Yanna shook her head vehemently, "have you _seen_ him lately? He only talks about his girlfriend and how he wants to pass his barding exams _so_ bad so he can move out."

"What?" Maered asked, "what did you say darling?"

"He wants to move out, mama," Yanna replied, "he says he wants to have his own house and live with uncle Hem for a while."

"Oh well," Maered relaxed, sure that the boy only wished for a bit of adventure, and that his sudden desire to leave was not due to his constant and vicious fights he had with his father. "I'm sure all he needs is some fresh air. Let him be, Yannie."

Yanna grinned at the nickname, and in a moment Mako quieted. Cadvan came back to bed, and, when he saw his little girl, he mussed her hair and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"To bed, little one," he said.

"Can't I sleep here?" Yanna asked, eyes large and blue in the moonlight. "I promise to be quiet!"

Cadvan glanced over her head at Maered, and, with her nod, he made himself comfortable and turned over. He was soon asleep, but Maered could not let go of what Yanna had said about Dernhil. He was so different from what she had hoped, nothing at all like his namesake, the quiet, scholarly man who had given his life so many years ago.

A sting of disappointment had wedged itself within her heart at the thought of her handsome, hotheaded son, and her mind turned to her eldest daughter, who, if Derhil left, would follow. She was a country beauty, not in the classical way like her sister, but who was all angles and bones. She was an extremely intelligent girl, but was so determined to please her brother that she would consistently break rules and, on occasion, the law, for the sake of his praise and friendship. At only sixteen, she was feisty and strong willed, but also her father's favourite, a fact that seemed to erase all her wrongdoing and grant her immunity, at least where he was concerned. When Maered doled out punishments, he did not interfere, but when they were alone, he would plead Adina's case, and Maered, more often than not, would sigh and reduce her sentence, something that made Adina very happy.

In the house it seemed only Yanna was without fault, and over the years Maered had begun to grow restless and bored from her life as a housewife, a fact that Cadvan had noticed when, on their anniversary, she had been cold and distant, fearing that he was losing his spark for her. After all, their son had been born more than six months ago, and they still had not lain together.

Fear of losing him, and of the state of her body, now, used from all her children, she was facing a crisis. She did not feel beautiful, and Cadvan was always away at council meetings, reminding her of her sacrifice as a mother, and not of the vibrant career woman she had once been, before their first was born.

It was not that she resented her children, for she loved them all dearly and deeply, but she felt acutely her youth slipping, and her fear for her husband and his feelings. She had never told him, of course, but she could not shake the fact that, even though her husband was deeply in love with her still, they had fallen into a predictable and uncomfortable rut, one in which it was a steep climb to escape.

If she could have changed something... if she could have left... but she wouldn't. She couldn't, at least for the sake of her children.

With a sigh, she sat up and went to the window, where she could see all of Innail stretched below her, quiet and calm. So this is what life had come to, she thought. This is it.

**AN: I know, I know, dark and a bit OOC, but bear with me, shes just having a little pity party. All will pass and we can focus on Dernhil. I plan to do a lot with him :) If you want more, review. If not, tell me why and I will postpone any further action **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: so sorry for my long absence from this story I was not sure of the interest. I will however, continue, and if the following persists keep writing. I have had a couple other stories on the go so I have pretty much sidelined this one. Sorry for that. Ok so here it is**

Dernhil, at nineteen, was a dangerously handsome boy, who knew it and used it. Cadvan would often remind him of his duties to the family, but his wandering and his penchant for trouble were almost impossible to control. To make matters worse, the boy would not listen to his father, and their constant and wicked fights had reached an all time high. Cadvan told his son that he must make a serious move towards his long time beau, the blond beauty, Darya and Dernhil had completely turned against him, making accusations of his father's mistrust and the fact that he did not marry the first woman who showed interest, so why then did he?

Dernhil, it seemed, only loved one thing, truly. His cousin, Milla had never been far from his mind, and was the reason he meant to keep the peace with his worried little mother. Without her he would not be allowed to live with her family in Turbansk, and would not get to see her lovely brown eyes smiling at him under those long blond lashes. He cared for his mother as well, but did not agree with her taking his father's side on all issues and never standing her ground against the punishments he imposed on his eldest.

Strong wine was also a factor. Ever since he had tasted it clandestinely with friends at the village, he had be addicted to it. One night when he arrived home at a stagger, his father had found him and, with his serious, judging manner, demanded to tell him where he had gotten it.

Dernhil lied, and his father, knowing this, punished him in the morning. He was the type of boy that had no trouble, so made it, and it drove Cadvan mad. He could be so good, so noble, but he wasted his life on a love he could never have and spent his time with the kind of company one could simply not be seen to keep.

His closest friend, the little Darya, had been with him for years, but was too young or perhaps too in love to notice that his attentions did not go to her, but to his cousin. She stayed, hoping that one day he would marry her, but with a boy like Dernhil, it was never possible to hold them down. Cadvan knew this, but never stopped trying to get his son to see sense. Both parents knew he was strong willed and stubborn, but his looks made the whole thing so much worse. Dernhil had acquired a talent for charming at a young age and from then on had used it to get everything and anything he wanted.

Adina thought she could follow him, but would come home in tears because she could never really keep up with him, or he was doing things that she knew was wrong. She never said what these things were, for she was doggedly loyal, but one could guess by when he was home or what he smelt like.

His parents had done everything to help him and to see that he was taken care of, but at every turn he opposed them, and used his status as the son of the lily of Annar to its fullest advantage. He had found the dark magic that his father had, so many long years ago, and would bribe the circle members into providing him access to the old books and records where he had completely lost his temper with his sainted father.

The man, he found, had dabbled in the dark, and had for some time been the outcast, just like his son. So why then could he not accept him? They were so similar that it was almost painful. Once he brought this up, and his father had hit him; the first and only time. His mother cried, and Adina, with fire in her eyes, tried her best to stand up for her brother.

He, not knowing when to quit, had gone on, and had subsequently been banished from the house with only his clothes and the money in his pocket. He had used the money to go see Milla, who had her own small cottage near her parents, and spent the week speaking to her and trying to persuade her to make love.

She would not, of course, for their close relation, but it did not stop him, and by the time his uncle Hem noticed the two were far too close Milla had already brought up her concern. Hem had told Cadvan, and it had only made the mess that much worse. It was wrong, Cadvan had shouted, that he should love Milla. They were blood and they could never be together. Dernhil refused to leave her though, with the promise that he would not go near her, but he brought it up again when they were in the kitchen table, her stirring her tea he leaning back against the wall.

"Milla, why are you so against us?" He asked.

"You know why," she tossed her long blond hair, "besides my father would kill you."

"I don't care," Dernhil replied defiantly, "I know he will understand. He's not like that." Milla's eyes grew sad.

"Dern, it would be wrong. You have that girl at home. Even if we could it would not matter because of her."

"She won't care," Dernhil lied, "just please, just let me have you, just once. After that I will say no more." Milla surveyed him over her cup. He was handsome enough, and willing, but their relation and her propriety would scarcely allow it.

"I love you like a brother, isn't that enough?" she asked pleadingly, sure that she could not hold up to the onslaught much longer.

"No, Millie, you know how I feel. Give it a week. I will go back to Innail and when I return tell me your answer."

So he had done what he said, and gone back home. Now, however, was the problem of getting his father to agree to letting him go back. He could not defy him this time, for his father had promised that if he did it again he would be forever sent away and his barding exams would not be complete. He would have no way to support Milla, and would therefore never be accepted by uncle Hem or his aunt. He also would never be able to leave Darya, and that worried him for he knew if he could not, he would marry her, and would therefore be the most unhappy man in all Annar, wishing for Milla but getting Darya`s simple friendship. He fell asleep thinking of this, and by morning still could not decide on a course of action.

**AN: So basically Dernhil is the little mess up child, and that is why Maered is so peeved. That and Cadvan may or may not be the best father when it comes to dealing with angsty teenage boys. I know its a little creepy again, but oh well. If it needs to be changed just shout, or if this twist is what is needed I shall keep it! Cheers! R&R!**


End file.
